I should have
by tea break
Summary: I never thought I d say that and wish it was otherwise but Harry is a tremendously good actor. Ever since the morning after the Horrible Night five years ago he started his life performance and Merlin does he do it well.


I should have

I never thought I´d say that and wish it was otherwise but Harry is a tremendously good actor. Ever since the morning after the Horrible Night five years ago he started his life performance and Merlin does he do it well. He fooled even me and I'm his mother I should have seen right through him. But I didn't. I was blind like everyone else.

I should have suspected something was wrong, he recovered so quickly and was so happy so soon. But maybe I just didn't want to know. I simply rejoiced myself that my son is normal again that he is not scarred for life, that his soul is whole again. I know now that deep down I knew, I knew all along that he was broken. I was just a coward. I didn't want to see the pain in his eyes even while he was laughing, hear his silent sobs every night, I didn't want to share the agony of losing someone so close to him. Because I knew too well that I can do nothing to help him, to lighten his burden.

First few days after the Horrible Night he simply „vanished". Not physically but mentally. He didn't speak, didn't eat, he didn't even cry. He simply existed. Like a hollow replica of himself. It was still Harry and yet it wasn't him anymore. No emotion, no response, just an empty stare. We tried so desperately to lift him up, to make him laugh, to make him live… and that was the biggest mistake we could have done. Saturday morning the seventh day after the Horrible Night Harry came down for breakfast with a „Good morning". It made me cry of happiness and he smiled at me. At that very moment I should have see what he was trying to do. I should have hugged him, should have said that he doesn't need to act happy for our sake, that it is perfectly normal to mourn for months, years maybe. I should have said that we love him no matter what. I should have done all that, and maybe in time I could have healed him. But I didn't. Instead I made him breakfast and watched him eat. And was happy. He was crying inwardly. His inside tears were falling down on his toast and he was eating his own sorrow. I would never forgive myself for betraying him like that.

I should have suspected that something is wrong as he never wanted to show us any of his girlfriends. „So, are you dating someone?" James often teased him. I'd never ask our teenager son about his love life. But James was bold enough to do that. And I was glad he asked.

Harry always replied „Yeah, I am, actually. She's lovely." I should have noticed how automatic his answers were, how easily he talked about it. No awkwardness, no blushing, no hesitation. But I didn't.

„Then when are we going to meet her?" I always wanted so badly to meet his girlfriend, to see with my own eyes that he had really forgotten about Maggie. That he had moved on. I wanted a proof. „It's too soon for that. We are together just for a while."

„I thought you were dating for few months already?"

„That was another one."

There and then I should have doubted him, I should have forced him to admit that there is no girlfriend. I should have make him believe he mustn't give up on love. To make him try. But I didn't. Instead I made him lunch and swallowed his lies with delight.

Ever since the Horrible Night he never stopped wearing her ring on a string around his neck. And whenever he was stressed or nervous he simply touched it to calm himself, to regain control. I used to think about it as his lucky charm, a talisman that protects him. Nothing more. I should have seen how he his hand always brushed it absentmindedly whenever he was telling us about his life, his friends and his girlfriends. How he touched it every time he laughed. I should have seen that it was more than just a lucky charm. It was a piece of her. A solid memory of Maggie, of his love. I should have understood that she had never died to him. She just transformed into a ring on a string around his neck. And his heart was trapped in it. But I didn't. I was too afraid to see that my son was still in love with a girl who was long gone. I should have helped him even though I didn't know how. But I didn't. Instead I baked his birthday cakes and watched him laugh and laughed with him. And I will rotten in hell for it.

I've lived in my happy bubble until last night. Until I accidently entered Harry's room while he was changing. There and then I realized that his whole happy life was just one big charade. A private theatre for our contentment. I stood at the door seeing my son shirtless for the first time in 5 years. And I wanted to close my eyes, to shield them. But I couldn't. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't even cry. I simply stared at his body all covered in bruises. Harry froze too but recovered quickly and dressed himself. He smiled at me weakly as to apologize for such a disturbance in my otherwise flawless life. As to make me forget what I just saw. I couldn't forget even if I wanted, that image is carved into my brain forever.

And suddenly it all clicked together. The truth I burried deep inside me was painfully dragged on the surface and put on display so that I could no longer ignore it. I watched our happy life shatter like a house of cards. And I wanted to punish myself for being so blind, so selfish. For betraying my own son. I wanted to shred myself into thousands of little pieces and slowly and excruciatingly painfully bleed to death. But that would be mercy. Physical pain so much more bearable than a pain of your soul. Harry has been bruising himself all that time just to be able to exist without Maggie. To put up a charade for the sake of his loved ones. I felt sick of myself. I was blind. I was afraid. I failed as a mother. There and then I should have apologized to him for everything that I do and didn't do. For letting him suffer for me. I should have promised to never let him be alone in his sorrow again. I should have vowed to help him live a real life. But I didn't. I didn't know how. It is too late for a real life. Instead I smiled back at him and silently closed the door on my way out of his room. Then I gave myself my first bruise.

Today I'm going to bake his favourite tarts and we will laugh together. And everything will be well.


End file.
